Story of a group of survivors

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Guest Sicconi

Guest Sicconi

A small surviving squad of the People's Army of Republican Chernarus set out from their base at Dolina and headed straight to the nearby factory next to Polana, where they acquired a car wheel. Lumbering the wheel all the way back to Dolina, taking it in turns to carry it back, the small band ran into a huge influx of infection activity. Out of nowhere, "pat, pat, pat". The survivor ran from behind a broken-down V3S and looked straight at the three men, gleaming with happiness at our return. One of the infected suddenly grabbed the man's leg from under the V3S, dragging him to the floor before his friends promptly began to eat at his now-torn flesh. The cumbersome car wheel was dropped instantly and each of the three members of the People's Army of Republican Chernarus dashed straight towards the now-half-dead man, knocking the infected with their crowbars, hatchets and even the butt of an L7A2 GPMG they had been offered as a gift for their kindness towards survivors on their travels.

The man, bleeding out, had bandages plastered onto every open wound on his body while at the same time, a few much-needed blood bags were dripped into his circulatory system. The unconscious-but-alive man was injected with epinephrine while the three PARC members began to look for any sign of infection - it was found.

The man pleaded for his life to be ended however none of the three wished to do it, so they drew a few blades of grass. Morrow looked back at his holster and dragged his Glock 17 from it swiftly. Placing one well-aimed shot into the centre of the man's forehead, the life force in the area decreased ever further. As the now-dead man's muscles relax his head tilted to the side, showing a true display of the size of the 9mm bullet. The man's brains slopped out of his forehead and the exit wound at the back, and even more out of the ricochet wound next to the exit wound. The smell of the quickly-rotting brain attracted even more of the infected, and so the great car wheel was clumsily shoved onto the V3S and attached pneumatically. The three drove off, smashing a few dead, rotting faces into a thousand pieces on their way.

The morale of this story? The People's Army of Republican Chernarus helps everyone they can, and offers mercy to those who request it. We also do our part to cull the infection. We wish you join us in our quest to rid the near-barren wasteland of the infection. We don't want to take your lives or your weapons, or your food or your drink. We wish for you to have free will and rights. You can stand up to anyone who oppresses you and you should feel proud.